The Universalist. [volume] (Chicago [Ill.]) 1884-1897, 1887-04-02

especially one about her granddaughter.
This person was insane, and, having no
one to care for her, the old woman prayed
she might live until after her death, so as
to watch over her.
To quote her own words, she says she
has had SO many different kinds of sick
nesses. A while ago she had the dropsy,
and that got well; then a sore on her arm,
and that healed up, and everything she
has seems to get better. All this seems
a real cause of regret to her, for, as she
says, she Is trying to wait patiently, and
all she wants now is just to have the dear
Lord take her home, to that blessed world
where her loved ones have gone, and
where poverty and want are unknown.
Every night when she lies down on her
poor bed, the coverings of which are
made OF small bits of cloth sewed together
(rags given by tailor), though not ex-
actly after the fashion of the crazy.quilts
OF the present day, she says to herself,
Perhaps he will take me tonight" and,
as each morning returns, she is surprised
to find herself still in the same place.
Surely when the Lord does take her, the
change will be akin to the translation of
Lazarus to Abraham's bosom. The high
backed chair, with its claw feet, in the
window, in which she sits all day, and a
little miniature of herself, taken when she
was young, both show she has really seen
better days. She goes to bed at six
o'clock, and SO of course she needs no
ight-quite an important item when one
is living on twenty-five cents a week.
When the visitor assured her the extra
twenty-five cents should be provided, she
said, as il showing that sometimes her
faith needs Strengthening, "You help the
Lord to remember me, won't you, for the
only prayer he has not answered is the
one to take me home, and sometimes" she
added, grow very tired" Her friend,
willing to know all about her, asked her
one day, when she spoke of her desire to
die, if she knew of any one who would
attend to her burial. "No," she replied,
"as long as my soul is only all right, it
don't make any difference what becomes
OF my poor body, even if the city has it. J"
The brave old lady has an interest in a
grave at Greenwood, where her husband
and one or two other members of her
family are buried. She mentioned the
fact one day, saying, 'Tbey will not open
it for me under seven dollars, and who
would ever even think of spending seven
dollars on mer
Once when asked if she went TO church,
she said, it would be of no use for her TO
go, for the service would only be a pan
tomime to her on account of her deaf
ness.
One day sudden and distressing idea
seemed to strike her and she said to her
kind visitor, "What would become Of me
il you were to marry? for your visits are
such comfort to me, and you are the
only friend have in the world"
This is the plain, unyarnished story of
one lonely life in our great city. I can
certify that it is not dressed up"
Would it not be we'll for those who are
leading selfish, absorbed lives, to search
for such cases, since the Master, who said
sit is more blessed to give than to re-
ceive, has told us that "we have the poor
always with us, and whatsoever We will
We may do them good" IN. e. BrolU1s, IN
Lend a. Hand